Cynicism
by Addison Kirby-Blue
Summary: Astrid Rose. 11 years old. Magic? Doesn't exist, mate.


Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; I see the name on the letter in my hands and I can't help but laugh. _Witchcraft_? You have to be kidding me. None of that stuff is real; at least, I don't believe it is. The guy in front of me seems to have a different idea. He's got the longest beard I've ever seen, and he looks like he's about six hundred years old. He's clothes are funny, and all. He's nattering away to my parents, and I doubt he's noticed that I don't believe a word he's saying. I doubt he's noticed I'm not really listening. I heard the word 'magic' and I shut down. He looks _really _stupid. I wonder if he feels out of place. I mean, us three are sitting here in t-shirts and jeans, and he's there in a bright purple dress. He's wearing a _dress_.

"Astrid?" My mother grabs my arm and shakes me. It's then that I notice I really am staring at the weirdo in the armchair that he brought _with_ him. It's then that I notice I've missed everything he said. I can't remember a word of it.

"Hm?" is the only thing I seem to be able to say. Everybody's looking at me now. I have no idea why. I think they're waiting for me to say something.

"Were you listening?" My father looks unimpressed. We share similar ideas when it comes to 'magic' and the like.

"No," I see no point in lying. The man smiles. I scowl at him. I might take him more seriously if he wasn't a cross-dresser.

"Don't you think that you should?" Dad has a point, I suppose. It's not like this guy is trying to sell us quadruple glazing or anything outlandish like that. He's simply trying to tell me and the rest of my family that magic is _real_.

"Miss Rose," the man turns to face me, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair and interlocking his fingers, "Would you like a place at my school?"

I shrug. I wasn't even listening to what he said; I have no idea what his school is like.

The man turns back to my parents, "May I take young Astrid on a walk?"

I raise my eyebrows, and look across at my parents. They're nodding, the traitorous nutters. I think my Dad just wants to be shot of the strange bloke, but my Mum seems to believe him. She has a glittery look in her eyes.

The man stands up, and extends a hand to me, "Let us walk."

I stand with him, but I ignore his hand. He has long, thin fingers…kind of like you would imagine a monster to have. They're spindly, like spider's legs.

We leave the house, and it occurs to me that I might actually have to listen this time. By the time I've processed the thought, I'm already preoccupied with the weather. The sky is very blue today, and I can count the clouds on my fingers. There's a shimmering halo just above the pavement. I like it when that happens.

"Astrid?" We're still walking but I think he's realised that I'm completely detached from what's going on. He's looking down at me. I hope that no-one sees me with this weirdo. I'd never live it down.

"'S'up?" I ask, shielding my eyes from the sun with my hand.

"You don't seem to impressed with the idea of magic," he has detective skills, this one.

"No, I'm not," I say bluntly.

"Is there any reason?"

"Uh, magic doesn't exist?" I would've thought that one to be pretty damn obvious, seeing as it doesn't.

"Oh, really?" With that, he whips a stick out from inside his sleeve. Oh, don't tell me that's his _wand_. Oh dear, oh dear. He flicks it at my hand. _Pop_. I look down. There's a bunch of bright red lilies clasped in my fingers. Okay, so that was a pretty neat trick.

"You could do that, one day," he says serenely, returning the stick to its resting place.

"Anyone can wave a stick," I say, dropping the lilies on the path, "It doesn't prove anything."

He sighs and raises an eyebrow. I look at him and I shrug. He isn't going to be persuading me that easily.

"Astrid, are you telling me that, even though I conjured flowers from nowhere, you refuse to accept the existence of magic?"

Well, yeah. "You can't conjure things from nowhere. They have to have existed somewhere. You just moved them."

"Logical girl." He nods slowly. We've come to the end of the road. We turn left.

"I don't know your name," I say, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"Albus Dumbledore," He says. I thought my name was stupid.

"Are you a wizard?"

"Do you believe me?"

"No."

"Then however I answer that question won't matter to you."

"So is that a no?"

He stays silent. I raise my eyebrows, and I stop. I put my hands on my hips, and sigh.

"All right, say I do believe you. What do you do about it?"

He stops too, turns, and smiles broadly at me. Smug git.

"You come to my school, and you learn magic."

"No prerequisite? I just learn magic. Is it like learning a language?"

"No…you have to be special. _You're _magic, Astrid."

"Am I really?" I can't keep the sarcasm from my voice. It's just too difficult.

"You've not experienced anything…odd?"

Apart from visits from men in dresses? "No…"

"Haven't your parents told you that it's wrong to lie?" He looks directly at me. His eyes are extremely pale. And, anyway, how did he know I was lying?

"Well, if you know I'm lying then I don't have to tell you, do I?"

"I'd like you to."

I lean against the fence, picking at my fingernails.

"Where do I start?" I look at the sky, squinting in the sun, "I can turn lights on and off without the switch; I can move things just by thinking about it; oh, and I can warm up water."

"Warming up water? That's a new one."

Dumbledore starts walking back towards my house. I think he thinks his work here is done. I'm still not convinced. I follow him, though, I guess I have to. He whistles a happy tune as we walk back to my house, and he only stops when I open the front door.

"Well?" My Mum jumps out of the living room as soon as the door shuts. Dad wanders out behind her, and they both look at me expectantly.

"What?" I grumble, shuffling past them into the kitchen. I open the fridge, grab a glass and pour myself an orange juice. As I sip at the juice, Dumbledore and my parents crowd around me.

"Don't you want to go to Mr. Dumbledore's school?" Mum almost looks upset.

"Not really," I say, smacking my lips and putting the glass down. Dad smirks.

"Okay, Astrid," Dumbledore puts a finger to his lips in thought, "How about you come along for the Autumn term? If you still don't enjoy it come Christmas time, you can leave, and you'll never hear from me again."

"And if I don't agree with that? You gonna pester me until I do?" I fold my arms defiantly. He's not going to break me that easily. I bet all the other kids are thrilled. I bet they don't even notice the dress.

He shrugs, putting his hands out, "Yes. I think you have extraordinary potential."

"Go on, Astrid," Dad says, a grin on his face, "He's getting out the big guns."

Dumbledore and I laugh, and Mum shoots Dad a reproachful look.

"Whatever," I laugh, pushing myself away from the counter, "I'll go to your school. Where do I sign?"

Dumbledore smiles in a knowing way, and for a second I regret my decision. He probably feels great about himself. He'll probably add it to his repertoire of achievements. Wizard. Ultimate Persuader. He pulls two letters out from his sleeve, where I mentally conclude that he keeps everything, and hands them to me.

"One," he says, "Is a list of the items that you will need for the term ahead. The other is instructions for getting to the train."

"Is getting on a train complicated?"

"For a muggle, yes."

"Muggle?"

"A word for non-magic folk."

"It's sounds like a cats name."

He smiles softly, and nods. "I must leave. Many other children to see. I hope they're not as difficult as you."

I shrug again. _Pop_. He disappears.

***

It's been a few hours since Albus Dumbledore left my humble abode. I've had to endure my Mother's endless praise for a long time. I've only just been able to get away, and even then I had to call upon my Dad to restrain her. She's really rather impressed. She keeps going on about 'good genes'. I still think it's a load of poppycock.

I stare at the ceiling, thinking about Hogwarts, what it's going to be like. As far as I'm aware, it's a boarding school, and that's really all I know, apart from the 'magic'. If I go, that obviously means that I'll have to share a room with other girls. I'm not good with other people, or so I've been told, least of all other girls. I'm more of a solitary creature, or so I've been told. Hopefully, Hogwarts is bloody huge, so I'll be able to find plenty of places to be alone, or hide, as others have put it. I don't want to have to spend too much time socialising. I don't want to get attached to anybody, because I'll be leaving at Christmas. I'll humour that Dumbledore man. It's only for a few months. There's no way I'm going to enjoy it.

I hear a knocking at my door. My father walks in, sitting next to me on my bed. He looks at me, and a grin breaks out on his face.

"He was a bit of a nutter, eh?" He says, laughing.

"He was wearing a dress, Dad," I say, swivelling around so I'm sitting up, "I don't want to go to his stupid school."

"Oh, come on, Astrid," Dad puts his hand on my shoulder and shakes me a little, "Just give it a go, yeah? Like he said, you only have to stay until Christmas. If you really hate it, I guess he'll let you go at half-term."

"But…I don't believe in magic. I'm going to look so stupid."

"Why?"

I raise my eyebrows, and look down into my lap. It's not like I'm coming around the idea of magic being real, but Dumbledore seemed pretty convinced. Mum definitely likes the idea. Dad seems to be breaking, too.

"What if it is real? I'm not going to fit in."

Dad laughs again. The laugh goes on for a long time.

"When do you ever care about fitting in?"

I shrug. I don't really care, but I don't want any snooty magic kids patronizing or bullying me.

"Look, Astrid," Dad looks me right in the eye, "We're going to get your things tomorrow for Hogwarts. You have to come along, so get some sleep. Stop worrying. You'll be fine. You're a big girl now."

With that, Dad stands up, and shuts the door on the way out. I sigh, lying back down and pulling the covers up to my chin. I frown and grumble until I eventually fall asleep.


End file.
